All This Time
by megan1300
Summary: He wants to scream at her until his voice is raw; to shake her and make her understand the depth of her betrayal." -- Tony/Ziva/McGee triangle
1. Prologue

**Title:** All This Time  
**Chapter:** Prologue  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tony/Ziva, McGee/Ziva  
**Spoilers/Warning:** R  
**Summary:** "He wants to scream at her until his voice is raw; to shake her and make her understand the depth of her betrayal..." - Tony/Ziva/McGee love triangle  
**Disclaimer: **NCIS and all it's characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellsario.  
**Author's Note:** The original idea behind this was a humorous one-shot wherein McGee writes a new book in the _Deep Six_ series and, because Tony had been an ass to him, he killed off Agent Tommy and Officer Lisa ran into Agent McGregor's arms for comfort. But as I started writing I really wanted to explore that idea with the actual characters and thus this was born. Now, this is just a bit of a teaser. I wanted to get it out here to see if anyone would be interested or if I'm just wasting my time. Let me know.

* * *

When they floor begins to tremble, Tony knows he's in for trouble.

He'd been lying on the couch in the latest in a long series of safe houses, attempting to catch some sleep before his team was set to deploy yet again. It had been two years since he'd taken this undercover op and, not for the first time, he was beginning to regret his decision. Well, it hadn't really been as much of a decision as it had been an order passed down directly from SecNav. An inter-agency collaboration intended to flush out a highly dangerous terrorist ring. Originally, the whole mission was to only take a few weeks. He would get in, get out, and everyone would believe he'd finally taken that Tahitian vacation he'd always wanted. But then the leader of the mission (a high ranking CIA operative) had been killed, Tony had manned up and taken control, and a few weeks had suddenly turned into a couple of years.

"Sir." Agent John Landers is his team's techie. There's not a single system or password the man hasn't been able to hack since the op started and, honestly, without him they'd all be dead at this point.

"What is it Landers?" Tony asks, exasperated. Why did the bad guys always have to attack just as he was finally starting to relax?

"Safe house has been compromised," Landers informs him. "Camera spotted a team of eight on foot."

"Obviously." Tony gestures to the glass on the coffee table that is now vibrating against the smooth surface. "Why is the house shaking?"

"That would be the tanks, Sir."

Tony shoots him a look that clearly says 'you have got to be kidding me' and Landers shrugs. The first time their safe house had been attacked all hell had broken loose. However, as time progressed and the number of compromised safe houses began stacking up, escaping trained terrorists had become something of a routine for the four operatives.

"Round up Beckett and Rodriguez and meet me in the kitchen," Tony instructs as he swings his legs over the arm of the couch and onto the floor.

He takes a deep breath before pushing off the couch and then scoops up his backpack as he strides into the kitchen. Omar Beckett, their weapons expert, is already there, grinning from ear to ear as he clicks the magazine for his 9mm in place and starts taking inventory of his current weaponry. Tony's come to realize Beckett gets off on gun fights and explosions and he's pretty sure the man has some sort of death wish, but there's no one else on this team he'd rather have watching his six and everyone knows it.

"Heard they got tanks," Beckett says excitedly as Tony begins rifling through his bag.

"You heard right," Tony says to him and smiles when his hands close over the object he'd been looking through his pack for. He traces his index finger over the glossy picture and sighs softly. Whenever something big goes down, such as current events, Tony makes sure to take out the picture and whisper a quick 'goodbye, I love you' just in case this is really, truly the last time he'll be able to. When he's finished with his ritual he places the picture back into his bag and looks over at Beckett. "What are you looking at?"

"You're so sweet Bossman," Beckett says with a smirk. "Almost gives me a toothache."

"Shut up," Tony mumbles as Landers enters the kitchen with Rodriguez in tow. "Landers, status?"

"Twenty meters out," Landers says, eyeing the thermal detection in his hands. "Looks like they're regrouping."

"Let me know the second they move," Tony tells him and turns to Rodriguez. Andrea Rodriguez is gorgeous, smart, and is just about the absolute last person on the Earth Tony would ever want to piss off. However, she's also the only one on the team he's ever talked to about his life prior to this damn mission and without her to vent his frustrations to, he'd probably have gone crazy by now.

"Doors are rigged," Rodriguez says bluntly.

"Good. Landers?"

"On the move and coming in quickly, Sir," Landers says as his eyes scan the device in his hands. "Fifteen meters. Ten. Five. Two meters out."

"Alright ladies," Tony says just as the front door explodes open maelstrom of fire and smoke. "Let's lock and load."

**Please Review**


	2. Chapter One

**Title:** All This Time  
**Chapter:** Chapter One  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tony/Ziva, McGee/Ziva  
**Spoilers/Warning:** R  
**Summary:** "He wants to scream at her until his voice is raw; to shake her and make her understand the depth of her betrayal..." - Tony/Ziva/McGee love triangle  
**Disclaimer: **NCIS and all it's characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellsario.  
**Author's Note:** This chapter took me FOREVER because it's the third draft. The first one came out too fluffy and I killed too many people in the second one so I tried to come up with a happy medium. Not sure how well I did though so I'll need you folks to let me know. Also... I NEED A BETA. I think a Beta will keep me organized and stop me from giving up too easily when I have a little writer's block. Plus, it's always nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. If you're interested, please PM me with your information. :D

* * *

It's been over a week since Tony's top-secret mission ended in a blaze of not-so-glory. He'd been shot in the shoulder very early on in the gun battle and only a few seconds after the fight had gone hand-to-hand the barrel of a shotgun was smashed into the base of his skull. He's still not quite sure what happened and with only Beckett's patchy memory to go by he's not sure if he'll ever know what really went down after he'd been knocked out.

What he is sure of, however, is that he left Syria with two less agents than he'd arrived with.

Snow is just beginning to fall as Tony pulls the rental car into his old, trusty parking space. Usually he would be cursing the first snowflakes of the season but, after three months under the hot Syrian sun, watching the snow fall is like greeting an old friend. It's all he can do to not jump out of the Cherokee, throw his arms into the air, and twirl around in circles like he did when he was a child.

_Ah hell_, he thinks and hops out of the jeep without even turning off the ignition. The cold air hits him like a brick wall but it doesn't faze him at all. With a grin, Tony extends his arms and throws back his head, savoring the way the small flakes sting his cheeks. He sighs, content, before dropping his arms to his sides. It may not be the Arctic, but it's still cold outside and he'd much rather be inside right now.

He steps into the bullpen five minutes later and, thankfully, finds it to be much the same as he left it. The walls are still that hideous shade of orange he detests (though he suddenly finds them to be much more appealing) and the desks are still lined up just the way he remembers; Ziva and Gibbs on one side with his and McGee's opposite. He feels so comfortable in the large space that it's almost as if he's stepped into his living room, not his place of work.

With a contented sigh, Tony slowly steps to Ziva's desk and smiles when he finds the desk devoid of any personal belongings save a single framed photo of the old team and, to Tony's utter delight, his Mighty Mouse stapler. It's so completely Ziva (detached and uncluttered, reflective and endearing) and right now he realizes just how _much_ he's really missed her.

"Agent Dinozzo."

Tony looks up, startled, at the sound of his name being called. Director Vance is standing on the catwalk, a small smile on his face, as he watches his former agent refamiliarize himself with his surroundings.

"Director Vance," Tony says, genuinely glad to see the other man.

"Thought you were dead, Dinozzo."

Tony chuckles softly. "So I hear."

When they'd been debriefed four days ago, Tony and Beckett were informed that their friends and families had been lead to believe they were killed in action. Not only, their superiors reasoned, would this be an added layer of protection against any retaliation, but it also serve as a clever ruse against their targets. Tony's pretty sure the bit about protecting their loved ones is total bullshit.

"Well," Vance jerks his head towards his office, "get up here so we can discuss your reinstatement."

"Yes Sir," Tony calls as Vance turns and strides back to his office. Tony glances at Ziva's one last time before following Vance up to his office. He lets himself in and finds Vance already seated, leafing through a pile of paperwork on the desk in front of him. He gestures to the seat across from him and Tony quickly settles into the chair.

"I see you passed your physical and your psych evaluation," Vance states, straight to business. He gestures to the sling on Tony's shoulder. "Your shoulder?"

"Clean shot straight through," Tony tells him. "No nerve or muscle damage. I'll be good as new in a few weeks."

"Good, good." Vance hesitates a moment before asking as delicately as possible, "Reports show you lost two agents."

Tony tenses immediately. Besides the one instance during his debriefing, Tony hasn't talked about Rodriguez or Landers since Beckett broke the news to him four days ago and, though he's not exactly opposed to seeing the man, the last thing he wants to do is have a heart to heart with Leon Vance. "Yes, Sir."

Leon sighs softly. "I'm sorry to hear that Dinozzo."

"Thank you," Tony says, though it doesn't come out as much more than a whisper.

"Now, let's get down to business." Vance folds his hands in front of him and eyes Tony warily. "It's been more than two years since you last worked as a field agent for NCIS and if you're serious about coming back then you'll need to understand there have been a few changes. The position you once held is no longer available."

Tony nods. He figured as much.

"There has been, however, a recent opening on your old team," Vance says matter-of-factly. "You'll be reporting to Agent McGee now-"

"Probie?!" Tony exclaims before he can help himself. "Probie's the Senior Field Agent?"

"_David_ is the Senior Field Agent," Vance tells him, watching closely for his reaction. "Agent McGee has been Team Leader for a little over a year and a half now."

Tony can't stop his jaw from dropping.

"Gibbs retired six weeks after your… you left and McGee stepped in to fill his roll until we could find a replacement," Vance explains. "He did such a great job that I decided to make it a permanent move. You trained him well Dinozzo."

Tony manages an uncertain, "Thank you."

Vance stands abruptly, prompting Tony to as well, and leans over to shake the younger agent's hand. "It's good to have you back Dinozzo. Now go home and get some rest. I expect to see you tomorrow morning at 0800."

Tony nods mutely and quickly leaves the office, still stunned by what Vance has told him. He gets that it's been two years and there were bound to be a few changes in that time but coming back to an NCIS devoid of Gibbs? _That_, he had not been counting on. And now he would be reporting to Probie and Ziva?

"So it's true."

Tony stops at the voice and realizes that he's made it down to the bull-pen without even knowing it. Furthermore, he's made it to the bull-pen where his favorite Goth is staring at him in awe, paler than usual. She looks like she's just seen a ghost. And in a way, Tony thinks, she has.

"Abby," he says softly as a warm grin begins to spread its way across his face. She's wearing her chunky platform boots and her black mini with the studded belt and her hair is in pigtails. Oh, how he's missed the pigtails. Even if Gibbs is gone, he knows he can still count on Abby to be there for him.

"Vance said you were alive but I…" Abby surveys him, eyes wide. "Oh Tony!"

She launches herself at him then and Tony has to brace himself against his old desk as her smaller body collides with his chest. He wraps his good arm around her shoulder and lets her cling to him as she cries into his broad chest. He kisses the top of her head and whispers comforting words into her hair.

Finally, Abby takes a deep breath and pulls away from him, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her black coat as she does so. She looks up at him adoringly, lulling him into a false sense of security, before giving him a quick jab to the ribs.

"Ow!" Tony squawks and rubs his stinging chest. "Geeze, Abs. What was that for?"

"That's for making us think you were dead," Abby growls, glaring at him. She points her finger at him accusingly. "That was mean Dinozzo. Very, very mean."

"It's not like I had a choice," Tony defends himself. "You think I wanted to lose two years of my life to some stupid mission?"

"No," Abby says with a sigh, her expression softening. "I guess not. It's just been really hard around here since you…"

"Died," Tony supplies as Abby trails off, a grimace on her face.

"Right," Abby says slowly.

"Gibbs left."

Abby nods. "And Ducky had a stroke a few weeks later. He's fine now but it was touch and go for a while there. He's still technically lead MI but Vance won't let him in for more than a few hours a week so Palmer's really in charge. He's even got his own assistant. Well, she's technically Ducky's assistant but she spends most of her time with Palmer. Name's Anna Stewart. Real sweet girl." Abby pauses and laughs at the look on Tony's face. "Too much?"

"Uh yeah," Tony says, eyes wide.

Abby smiles. "Maybe you should go home and get some rest. You do have somewhere to go, right?"

"They kept my apartment for me, yes," Tony tells her. What he doesn't say, however, is that his apartment is the last place he plans to stay at tonight. "You heading out?"

"Mmhm."

"I'll walk with you."

They walk in silence to Abby's hearse and Tony waits until she's in the car and buckled before trudging through the slick snow to his rental.

"Hey, Tony?" Abby calls when he's a few feet away. "Vance and I are the only ones that know you're not dead. So if you're planning on going anywhere other than your apartment tonight, and I suggest you don't, you may want to keep that in mind."

Tony nods, slightly unnerved by the shifty look Abby's sporting. He's been friends with her long enough to know when she's keeping something from him and, by the way she's nervously chewing her bottom lip, it must be something big this time.

"And Tony?"

"Yeah Abs?"

"I'm really happy you're not dead."

"Me too, Abby." Tony can't help but laugh. "Me too."

Tony watches as Abby reverses the hearse and drives out of the parking lot, the snow-slicked pavement slowing her progress. When the car is finally out of sight he starts the short trek to the Cherokee all the while wondering what could be the source of Abby's uneasiness. However, as he begins driving the familiar route to his destination all thoughts of Abby simply fade away into the background.

The snow has picked up by the time he pulls into the complex and turns down the drive to Ziva's condo. He doesn't spot her Mini as he pulls into a parking space in front of her building and frowns. Maybe she's not here?

_She could have a new car_, Tony reasons. He glances down at his watch. It's seven o'clock on Tuesday. _Or_, he realizes, _she could be out. _

He leans forward over the steering wheel and lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the windows of Ziva's condo glowing orange. He begins grinning when Ziva herself walks over to the window and yanks the drapes closed. Seeing her for just that second is all the motivation he needs and within seconds he's out of the car and hurrying along the walkway leading into her building. At the door, he prays that she hasn't changed the numeric passcode to get into the building. He doesn't want to spoil the surprise of his sudden reappearance by calling for her to let him in.

Unfortunately, she's changed the code.

It takes him a few tries, but he's finally able to crack the code when he punches in the numbers corresponding to Abby's birthday. He quickly bounds up the steps two at a time and knocks on Ziva's door without the slightest hesitation.

A few moments later he's still standing outside the door, frowning. He swears it was her he saw in the window, but he's starting to doubt his own eyes at this point. _She's probably got a shotgun trained on the door right now_, he thinks fondly but takes a cautious step back anyway.

He's just turning to leave a couple of minutes later when he hears footsteps and Ziva's muffled voice from the other side of the closed door. As the doorknob turns, Tony's heart begins to beat wildly in his chest. During the really rough times (like when he was dodging bullets or nursing _another_ knife wound) reuniting with Ziva was the only thing that kept him going. He's literally dreamed of this day for two years.

"…call you back in a minute. Someone's at the door."

"Hey there Sweetcheeks," Tony says as the door swings open. He notices the astonishment on Ziva's face just as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to him. Whatever he expects, Ziva pushing him away as his lips meet hers is certainly not it.

"No!"Ziva yelps as she springs away from him.

"It's me," Tony says quietly and holds his palms in the air in what he hopes is a calming manner. He's learned over the years that Ziva is like a wild, unbroken animal and the last thing he needs is to spook her any farther. "Ziva, baby, it's me. It's Tony."

"You are dead," Ziva says, eyes wide. "You died on a mission two years ago."

"No," Tony tells her and takes a careful step towards her. "I didn't die. There was a mission, but I didn't die. I'm back, Ziva. I'm back and I'm not going anywhere ever again."

Ziva stares at him; confused and hurt and uncertain.

"Sweetcheeks, you know how these things work," Tony says softly, slowly inching his way to her. "You know what it's like to have your cover blown when you're in deep. _You know_."

"You are dead," Ziva repeats shakily.

"I'm not dead," Tony reiterates. "I'm right here."

Tony reaches her just in time to catch her when her knees give out. He secures his arms around her waist as she sags against him, the fabric of his jacket twisted in her small fists. The sound of her choked sobs tears his heart into pieces because, ultimately, it's his fault. _I did this,_ he thinks.

If this is the affect his return has on her, he doesn't even want to imagine her reaction when she'd been told he was dead.

"I…"

"It's okay Sweetcheeks," Tony whispers as her tears begin to subside. Once her breathing has returned to normal, he smoothes back her hair with his hand and smiles down at her. "Everything is okay now. I'm home."

"What-" Ziva steps back and shakes her head. "I don't understand."

"I'll explain later," Tony tells her. "Right now, all I want is to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with you."

Ziva suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Tony, I-"

But her words are suddenly cut off when a voice calls from within the condo calls, "Bathroom's all yours Zi. Better hurry if we want to make it to my parents on time for dinner."

"McGee?" Tony says, stepping around Ziva and into the condo before she has a chance to stop him. Tony grins as he spots McGee standing in Ziva's living room and he's already moving forward to greet his friend when he realizes things aren't quite as they should be.

Tony stops in his tracks and turns to Ziva in disbelief. Her tears are gone now, only to be replaced with that deer-in-headlights look and, considering the fact that Timothy McGee is standing in her living room wearing nothing but a towel draped around his waist and a shocked expression on his face, she has good reason to look stunned.

"Oh. Oh wow," Tony says slowly as the magnitude of the situation begins to sink in. He looks from Ziva to McGee and back again, his expression darkening with each glance. "I see."

And with that, Tony turns on his heel and leaves, not hesitating for a second as Ziva calls after him.

**Please Review**


	3. Chapter Two

**Title:** All This Time  
**Chapter:** Chapter Two  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tony/Ziva, McGee/Ziva  
**Spoilers/Warning:** R  
**Summary:** "He wants to scream at her until his voice is raw; to shake her and make her understand the depth of her betrayal..." - Tony/Ziva/McGee love triangle  
**Disclaimer: **NCIS and all it's characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellsario.  
**Author's Note:** Here's my excuse - I moved in with my boyfriend, got a personal trainer, and have been working mandatory O/T for the past month. I know, it's not good enough. Believe me when I say I'm going to try harder to find time to work on this. I promise. Oh, and I wanted to get this out quickly so I didn't really proof very well. It may be somewhat choppy in the middle and end.

* * *

Tony stands still, his forehead resting against the cool surface of the stopped elevator. In the past two years he's impersonated an Italian teamster, made friends with a former Russian KGB member, and assassinated the leader of a Syrian terrorist cell but even after all that, the thought of facing Ziva and McGee makes him want to vomit.

Although, the nausea could also be due to the copious amounts of Scotch he knocked back last night.

After a few deep, calming breaths, Tony straightens and pushes the emergency button. The elevator lurches back into life and a second later the doors ping open. There's a tubby man with a too-tight jacket standing just outside of the doors, scowling at him.

"I thought the emergency button would finally get a rest once Gibbs retired," he growls at Tony. "Apparently, I was wrong."

Tony frowns as he sidesteps the somewhat familiar man. He's pretty sure he should remember him but for the life of him he can't place the guy. _Eh_, Tony thinks, shaking his head. Right now he's got much more important things to think about than Fat Man in a Little Coat and, as he rounds the corner and catches sight of his new/old team, there they are.

Neither Ziva nor McGee has noticed his entrance yet and Tony uses this unguarded moment to assess the situation. McGee is sitting at _Gibb's_ desk (for Tony will never willingly acknowledge McGee's control of the team) pecking away at his keyboard while Ziva stands behind him, her forearms resting on top of his shoulders as she peaks over his shoulder at whatever is on his screen. They're not at all self-conscious and it shows in the way their bodies are practically an extension of each other's.

When McGee turns and presses a soft kiss to Ziva's cheek, Tony has to look away.

"In or out, Dinozzo. Make up your mind."

Tony turns abruptly to find Vance standing behind him. "Sorry Sir. I was just-"

"Look, Tony," Vance says, eyeing him in that way that makes Tony feel like he's under a microscope, "I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I _will_ drop you if your personal feelings affect your work or that of your team."

Tony opens and closes his mouth stupidly.

"What?" Vance scoffs. "You think I don't notice when my agents mix business with pleasure?"

Tony grimaces, extremely uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

"They've kept it professional," Vance warns, "and I expect you to as well."

Tony nods as the Director starts off toward his office. With a sigh, Tony turns back to the Bullpen to find that his conversation with Vance has obviously drawn the attention of his teammates (and the rest of the personnel, he realizes). Ziva is now sitting behind her desk, a look of false concentration on her face as she stares down at the paperwork in front of her intently. McGee still has his eyes on the computer in front of him, but now he's stiff and his back is ramrod straight. Tony can tell he's watching him out of the corner of his eye, calculating his next move.

Across from them, two unknown agents are openly staring at him. Tony raises an eyebrow lazily as he stares right back at them. The one at McGee's rightful desk is young, maybe in his mid-twenties, and looks down the second their eyes meet. The other, who is sitting at what was once Tony's desk, is a few years older than the other and seems to have no qualms about engaging in a staring match with a virtual stranger. He's obviously on Team McGee.

"You going to stand there all day, Tony, or come over to meet your new teammates?" McGee asks suddenly, his eyes never leaving his computer screen.

"Right," Tony chirps through clenched teeth. He tightens his hold on the backpack he's got slung over his good shoulder and steps into the Bullpen to greet the agents.

"Dan Hawkins," the young one at McGee's desk says. "Graduated from Purdue with a degree in Sociology and…"

Tony stops listening, opting to study the kid instead. He's obviously _just_ graduated from college and is as green as they come. Maybe it's the good 'ol Midwest upbringing or the way his self-conscious smile reminds him of McGee on his first day, but Tony realizes he actually likes this kid.

When Dan finally stops reciting his credentials, Tony smiles and mutters a half-hearted, "Go Boilermakers."

"Boiler-up," Dan says excitedly as he sits back down with a grin.

Tony chuckles and turns to the agent currently standing behind the desk he called home for ten years. Even if the guy shit rainbows and burped butterflies (which he doesn't), Tony would still hate him because he's obviously his replacement.

"Seamus Walsh," the man says gruffly in a light Irish accent. He reminds Tony of a very serious, very sober Collin Farrell. "Been with NCIS for two years, MI5 for the twelve before."

"Tony Dinozzo," Tony supplies shortly and taps the surface of Walsh's desk with his fingertips. "This is my desk."

Walsh blinks. "This is my desk. It has been for the past two years."

"Yeah," Tony says, doing his best Bill Lumbergh. "See, I sat at this desk for ten years. And since I still have the key that opens the bottom drawer-"

"I jimmied that lock within the first week." Walsh's tone is bored and stony. "Quite the collection you had in there. I'm sure Agent David appreciated your keeping her bikini pictures away from prying eyes. Good for you."

Tony's eyes narrow sharply. He knew from the second he saw this guy that they wouldn't get along (alpha males rarely do) and now nothing would make him happier than breaking the Irishman's face.

"Don't worry," Walsh continues. "Boss has all your awards and medals."

"Gibbs?" Tony's face screws up in confusion.

"He means me," McGee says and Tony twirls around just as the other agent is pulling on his coat. McGee eyes his teammates, "Gear-up; dead marine. Tony, stay here and take care of the paperwork waiting for you on _your_ desk."

When McGee points to the extra desk way back in the corner, Tony can't help but scowl. He's throwing his bag on the desk when Ziva catches his eye and gives him a small, encouraging smile. Tony's first instinct is to flash his charming pearly whites back at her, but he catches himself just in the nick of time and stares at her coolly instead. He looks away just in time to miss the way Ziva's face falls.

"Well," Tony says, staring down at the mountain of paperwork in front of him. The rest of his 'team' has already left and suddenly he feels very out of place. He really doesn't want to do paperwork; what could be more boring? So he instead nods to himself resolutely and says aloud, "Right. I'm going to see Abby."

He can hear loud, thumping music from the elevator and the familiarity of it causes him to finally relax as he steps into the lab. He grins as he steps into the lab and finds Abby dancing around, her head bobbing to the beat, as she pushes buttons and flicks switches on her 'babies'.

"Abby," Tony yells, making his presence known.

"Tony!" Abby squeals and grabs the remote to turn down the music volume. She hops over to him and throws her arms around his waist. Tony opens his mouth to greet her when she suddenly pulls away and pinches his bicep painfully.

"Abby!" Tony yelps. "What was that for?"

"I just wanted to be sure this isn't all a dream and you're actually dead," Abby says hurriedly and then reassumes her hug. "But you're _real_!"

"But," Tony stammers, still grimacing from her sudden attack, "aren't you supposed to pinch _yourself_?"

Abby pulls her cheek away from Tony's chest to look up at him. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Tradition, maybe?" Tony says with a chuckle. Leave it to Abby to put a smile on his face two seconds after causing him bodily harm.

"Screw tradition," Abby says as she pulls away. She waves at him to follow her as she winds her way further into the lab and stops at her computer. "So what brings you down here?"

"Just came to see you Abs," Tony says as he steps up next to her. She shoots him a pointed look and Tony quickly tries to change the subject. "So whatcha got here?"

"Partial print from a crime scene," Abby says with a shrug. "I'm just checking it against records."

They lapse into a comfortable silence as they watch the computer run through the fingerprint catalogues. The whirring of the machines help soothe Tony's nerves and he relaxes so much that he jumps when Abby says his name after a few silent minutes.

"So really – why are you down here?" Abby asks, her eyes sliding sideways to him and then back to the computer.

"They got a case," Tony tells her and nonchalantly adjusts his sling. "And McGoo left me a pile of paperwork a mile high. I'll tell you what, I did not miss the paperwork when I was on my op."

"Well," Abby asks slowly, ignoring the way Tony sneered when he said McGee's name, "what did you expect? You know what it's like for probies on their first day. It's all paperwork. Plus someone put a bullet through your shoulder so you might not be too helpful in the field."

"I can still take pictures or bag-and-tag," Tony snaps. "And I'm not a probie."

Abby bites her bottom lip and refrains from voicing her opinion.

"Speaking of probies," Tony says uncomfortably. "How is McGee at running the show?"

"Ah," Abby says, turning to look at him. "So there's the reason you came down here."

"I'm just curious," Tony tells her. "Two years ago the guy had to be told when to tie his shoes and now he's leading the top team in the agency?"

"That's not true and you know it," Abby says defensively. "Timmy has been a good agent from the beginning and when you left he had no problem sliding into the Senior Field Agent vacancy you left. Even Gibbs was impressed."

Tony frowns. "So what's the deal with Walsh?"

"He's…" Abby pauses to contemplate Walsh. "Serious. Very serious."

"Yeah, I figured that out pretty quickly," Tony scoffs. "Well, I guess I should start trying to put a dent into some of that paperwork. See you later?"

Abby nods and, as Tony turns to leave, says softly, "They've been through a lot to get where they are."

"Abs," Tony whispers, eyes closing sadly.

"Just…" Abby sighs. "Keep that in mind, ok?"

Hours later, the office is all but deserted and Tony's got a cramp in his writing hand from signing his signature eighty-million times already (he's got another twenty-million to go). He's finally reaching the end of his second stack of paperwork when the elevator suddenly chimes and his team steps back into the bullpen. He watches them from his dark little corner as they dump their packs onto their respective desks.

"Hawkins, Walsh," McGee says tiredly. His two agents glance up at him as they're settling into their chairs. "Why don't you two head home and grab some Z's?"

Hawkins doesn't have to be told twice and, before McGee can even bark out an order to be back by seven the following morning, he's scooped up his bag and is heading out the door without so much as a glance backwards. Walsh, on the other hand, glances at Tony and then back at McGee before asking, "You sure boss? I can run through some of these reports tonight if you'd like."

Tony gets the distinct feeling that Walsh is either a total loser without a life outside work or he's so tuned-in with the tension radiating from his colleagues that he feels uncomfortable leaving them unsupervised for any amount of time. Or it could be a combination of the two.

"That's not necessary," McGee says with a small smile. "Our suspect isn't going anywhere anytime soon. I think it can wait until the morning."

"Well then," Walsh says, eyes flickering to Tony for just a second. "Have a good night." He leaves then and Tony watches McGee slump into his chair as Ziva pulls out her cell phone to check her messages.

"So," Tony asks suddenly, "what's the case?"

"A young couple was found murdered in an apartment," McGee says, surprised that Tony has even spoken to him. "They've been there a couple of days."

"And?"

"The ex-boyfriend, a marine, was picked up a few of hours after Palmer's estimated T.O.D. by the locals." McGee shrugs. "Looks pretty cut and dry."

"Such a waste," Tony says with a nod. "Though I know how the guy probably feels."

The words have the exact affect they were supposed to. Ziva snaps her phone shut without finishing her messages and McGee suddenly looks extremely wary; as if Tony's a rabid animal ready to attack.

"I mean, you love a girl with all your heart and she turns her back on you," Tony says casually. "His heart was broken."

"Tony-"

"Let me guess, he just got back from a tour?" Tony raises an eyebrow. "Right?"

Ziva nods. "Yes. He got back from Iraq two weeks ago and found out she had been cheating on him with one of his friends."

"He probably thought she was being a good little Susie Homemaker in his absence too," Tony says and stands up. His anger has been slowly simmering since the night before and now that he's finding himself sympathizing with a murderer it has suddenly hit its boiling point.

"That's not fair," Ziva says quietly as her eyes flitter to the floor.

"You don't think so?"

"No," Ziva shakes her head. "I don't."

"What do you think is fair then?" Tony asks, his tone lowering dangerously as he steps around his desk. "You think it was fair for her to start sleeping with his best friend while he was off fighting for his country? For his life?"

"I know what you are getting at," Ziva tells him. "But our situation is nothing like theirs."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Tony chuckles mirthlessly. "I think our situation is very similar. I bet she was his first thought every morning and the last before he fell asleep. I bet that when times got tough the only thing that kept him from giving up was the thought of her, too. And then, when he finally gets to come home to her, he finds out she's been seeing his best friend behind his back."

"That's not fair!" Ziva cries and there are suddenly tears in her eyes. "We thought you were dead."

"Fine. Fine, you thought I was dead." Tony's jaw sets as his eyes bore into Ziva's. "So how long, Ziva?"

Ziva's eyebrows knit in confusion. "I don't-"

"How long was I 'dead' before you jumped in bed with McGee?" Tony hisses. "How long was I dead before you fucked my best friend?"

"That's enough Ton-"

"_You_ shut up," Tony bellows as he pivots around and stabs his finger at McGee. "You shut the hell up. You are _never_ to speak to me again. Ever."

"You need to settle down," McGee suggests calmly. He slides out of his chair and rounds his desk slowly, deliberately. "We _all_ need to settle down and discuss this like adults."

"What's there to discuss?" Tony scoffs, a hysterical edge to his voice. "I 'die' and the two of you jump into bed ten minutes later?"

"That's not how it happened," Ziva whispers roughly.

Tony turns back to her and swallows heavily. He wants to scream at her until his voice is raw; to shake her and make her understand the depth of her betrayal. But when his eyes fall upon her he realizes that nothing he can say or do could ever make her fall any more than she already has. So instead of unleashing a string of obscenities and insults like he wants to so badly, he takes a few calming breaths and asks harshly, "Then how did it?"

Ziva's eyes slide sideways to McGee. He's been steadily inching his way to her and when they're finally standing shoulder to shoulder he wraps his index finger around her own and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Tony doesn't miss the look that passes between them or the way Tim gives her a tiny, encouraging nod. Just his mere presence is comforting to her and Tony has to bite his lip from lashing out. He used to be the one to comfort Ziva and it's killing him that his position in her life has been replaced by his best friend.

"When you…" Ziva shakes her head, not able to say the words, and looks up at McGee for help.

"When you died," McGee says quietly, uncertainly, as his gaze slides from Ziva to Tony, "_everything_ fell apart. A few weeks after Gibbs handed in his resignation Ducky had his stroke. Ziva and I were suddenly thrust into the Team Leader and Senior Agent vacancies. We were pulled in a hundred different directions all at once. And it was so stressful and chaotic and we had no one else to turn to. And then…" McGee's eyes screw shut at the painful memory. "And then Ziva lost the baby."

Tony's eyes dart from one to the other, shocked and outraged. "You knocked her up?"

"No." McGee opens his eyes and stares straight into Tony's eyes. "You did."


End file.
